


The Late Life of Gwenog Gryffindor

by AceSpace



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Content, F/F, F/M, Founder Era, Founders, Fucking, Godric Gryffindor's Sister, Gwenog Gryffindor, Hogwarts Founders - Freeform, Hogwarts Founders Era, Multi, NOT FOR KIDS, NSFW, Nakedness, Nudity, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4116202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceSpace/pseuds/AceSpace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwenog Gryffindor is sent away from her home by her parents to live with her brother, Godric Gryffindor. While she and her brother are close, it is her first time visiting her brother in Scotland. It is also the first she has heard of her brother and his friends' idea to open a school for magic folk like herself.<br/>This story follows Gwenog through the founding of the school as well as it's first class. There will be drama, romance, and later there will be smut, shameless shameless smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coming to the Hogwarts

A loud bang echoed across the lake. A young woman of seventeen stood on the shore, the tips of her toes dipping into the water. A second ago, she was not there. Her red hair shone gold in the midday light. It had been piled atop her head so that the curls would cascade dreamily against her neck. She sniffed in disdain at the castle ruins across the lake as she pulled a wand from the pockets concealed in her various skirts.  
Lifting her skirts, she climbed into the summoned boat. Another twitch of her wand and the boat began to move slowly across the lake. It was a lovely day out. Had she not been sent to live with her older brother, she may have even enjoyed the ride.   
The boat pulled into a ragged dock. She walked into damp dungeons. Another look of distaste crossed her face. It appeared that putting her wand away was foolish. She put a charm on her shoes and her skirts, hoping to protect them from whatever may be on the dungeon floors.  
By the time she reached the grand entry, she was shivering and grumpier than ever.   
“God curse that damnable brother of mine,” she said hotly under her breath, trying to determine where she should go next, “bad enough have to be sent out here, the middle of nowhere, no society to speak of. But I thought, maybe a castle would be nice. No. It’s a ruin. Who lives in a ruined castle? Godric. Good old Godric. And of course you cannot simply apparate to the castle. No, that would simply make sense. God forbid that.” She continued on that way, stopping only when she heard the echos of somebody whistling.   
She turned away from the entry doors, looking up the grand stairway where the sound seemed to be coming from, “Godric? Is that you?”  
The figure at the top of the stairs stopped, “Why no, I am not Godric. Who is it that is asking?”  
“I am Gwenog Gryffindor. Godric Gryffindor is my elder brother. He was told I would be coming. Today,” The man now stood before her. She supposed he was of the same age as Godric, either 27 or 28. He was a head and a half taller than she was, with a well kept black beard and short black hair, suggesting some wealth despite his near peasant attire. Gwenog, who had become accustomed to the company and treatment of more noble families, disliked being questioned so by a man she did not know and who appeared to be beneath her status. She found his lack of introduction rude and the openness of his shirt, baring his haired chest, to be quite inappropriate, “And who, may I ask, are you?”  
The man smirked and turned on his heel, heading back towards the stairs, “A friend of Godric’s. If you will follow me, I shall take you to him.”  
“A proper gentleman would introduce himself to a lady he has just met.” She called after him, not moving from her spot.  
“Ah, then it is good I am not a proper gentleman.” She glared at his shrinking form before lifting her skirts and running after him.  
“Perhaps I shall speak to my brother on his choice of friends.”

“Ah, Salazar, you found her!” her brother looked up from the plans lain on the table when the door opened. The room was large and rounded, filled with red and gold colored furniture and kept warm by a blazing fire. Godric was as well kept as the man he called Salazar, his beard connected to a too-well-groomed moustache that was the same golden red as his waved hair.  
“I had expected my brother to see my arrival. Especially knowing my feelings towards this… forced relocation.”  
The women at the table, one a fair colored and plump maid with a crown of golden braids, the other a severe looking woman with a darker complexion and coal black hair, looked at each other with some concern at her tone. Godric, however, had not lost his smile.  
“Come now, Gwen, I know you will come to love it here! Do you not like my tower? It does need some work but after a while it will be fit for any number of brave students.”  
“Students? Is that what you intend? You wish to teach students in a crumbling castle. Yes, that sounds as though it is the wisest of decisions.” her voice dripped with sarcasm. The voice inside reminded her that ladies do not behave this way but she reminded the voice that she had no need to be ladylike when in such isolated conditions.  
Godric’s smile faltered for but a second, but seeming to remember himself, he motioned to the others in the room, “These are the others who will be helping me found Hogwarts, that is the name we have decided upon just now,” First he indicated the severe looking woman, “This is Rowena Ravenclaw. Truly the brightest witch I have ever met,” Rowena smiled ever so slightly, still assessing Gwenog, “and this is Helga Hufflepuff. I know the two of you will get on merrily when you decide to stop taking out your displeasure on the innocent,” This paired with the woman’s easy smile and kind greeting made Gweong ashamed of her course behavior. Finally her brother turned to the man, Salazar, “This is my good friend Salazar, Salazar Slytherin. You will recall, no doubt, that I mentioned him in some of my letters home.”  
She did recall a mention of the man, though he was not at all what she expected. The others were all dressed simply but elegantly. They at least appeared to be of the gentler status. Salazar however was dressed like a common rogue bearing on indecency.   
He smiled at her.  
 _God,_ she thought, _Even his smile is impish._ At the same time, she found it endearing. She told herself it was the kind admiration her brother had made mention of in his letter, but she knew the shiver in her spine and the tightening in her belly that it was far more indecent than that. _Save me, a woman could be driven mad out here._


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwenog Gryffindor grows closer to Salazar Slytherin when he asks for her aid in the construction of the Slytherin Common Room and dormitories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate writing summaries. I am sorry. There will be smut within the next two or three chapters, I promise. In the mean time I just need to develop their relationship. Thank you for bearing with me.

**Chapter Two**  
A young golden haired woman walked along the barely there path from the castle down to the lake. The weather had decided to take a break from the usual May rains. She reveled in the sweet smell left by the rain, and the warmth of the sun on her neck, and the delectable feeling of damp grass between her toes. Walking without shoes was completely unheard of where she had lived before. But out here in the country, she felt she could do anything. After all, what consequences awaited her?  
As the path drew near where the trees met the shoreline, she began to hear a quiet laughter. Hiding behind one of the thicker trees, she was able to see a dark haired man lying on the edge of the grassy area. In front of him was a green snake. It appeared that he was speaking to the snake. The snake swayed and bobbed; the woman almost thought it was indicating her.  
“I know you’re there, Gwen.” The man said quietly.  
“I did not mean to spy.”  
“And yet you did.” His voice held a teasing tone. A smile lit his entire face when he turned to look at her, laying his head upon his arms. His smile broadened as her looked down, “I see my lady has learned all sorts of indecent behavior since her arrival.”  
Gwenog blushed and sat down on the grass with as much elegance as she could muster, hiding her bare feet beneath her dress, “I thought you had disappeared. For someone who is helping found a school, you are awfully scarce.”  
“Ah but perhaps you are looking in the wrong places.”  
“I haven’t been looking-“  
“Perhaps I have been here all along, speaking with Basil.” Gwen had forgotten the snake until he motioned towards it.  
“The snake has a name?”  
“Of course she does. And she isn’t just any snake. She is a basilisk.”  
“A basilisk?” She was suddenly very fascinated, “I have never seen one. I thought they were supposed to be bigger?”  
Salazar chuckled. He sat up, letting Basil slither onto his lap and began to pet her absentmindedly, “Of course, she will be quite larger once she’s older. She’s only just hatched in the last month. I hatched her myself. We were just discussing how I can build my rooms where I wish to build them.”  
“You speak as though she can talk back.”  
“All snakes talk back. Most people simply cannot understand their language.”  
“And you can?” Gwen smiled indulgently. She thought he must be toying with her; he must truly think her a child.  
“Yes. I speak Parseltongue, the universal language of the snakes.”  
“Are you being serious?”  
“Of course,” He looked at Basil, apparently listening to her, “Ah an excellent idea,” he then turned back to Gwen, “Godric has told me that you have always excelled at charm work?”  
Gwen toyed with the grass around her, “I’ve a knack for it I suppose.”  
Salazar lifted Basil to his shoulder and rose to his feet, offering a hand to Gwen, “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind assisting me? At least, allow me to show you what it is I am thinking of.”

Instead of following him back to the castle, he led her to a lower entrance of the dungeons. Walking through the dungeons Gwen regretted not having at least brought shoes with her. Perhaps she should consider an extendable charm on her purse. She tried not to focus on the chill of her feet, but instead on Salazar’s increasing eagerness. He reminded her of a child receiving a treat. The image of a young Salazar made her smile.  
“You see, I’ve been searching for the part of the dungeon closest to the lake. I want to build the main room underneath the lake with large windows so that students can relax and look out into the lake. But I’m not sure how to do it.”  
“Why would you wish to be beneath the lake? It will be so… dark and damp and…cold.”  
She instantly regretted her negative attitude as Salazar’s smile faltered, “I… I just think the water is relaxing. It’s so beautiful and it reminds me of home. And…”  
“And?”  
“Can you keep a secret?”  
“Of course.”  
“When I was younger, my brother brought me a pet squid. Living with a wizarding family, the squid has lived abnormally long and grown abnormally large. I thought he might like it if he could like somewhere with more room. But I’d also like to see him some times.”  
Gwen started with a smile, and then she began to giggle and eventually outright laugh. Salazar stared at her as if she had grown an extra head, “I’m sorry. I just… You try to present yourself as this rugged rogue, all tough and intimidating but it turns out you’re a child in love with large and dangerous creatures.”  
The top of Salazar’s ears turned pink and he ducked his head, mumbling something about, “they’re not dangerous…”  
Gwen covered her laugh behind her hand, “Of course not. Well, I cannot promise much, however, I would be honored to help you.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two set to work immediately. Salazar had shown Gwen sketches of a great common room, filled with posh furniture. On one wall of the massive room stood a great fire place. The other wall was lined by floor to ceiling windows. At the end of the hall opposite the entry was a massive grand staircase. Salazar explained that the stairway on the right would lead to the women’s dormitories and that the stairway on the left would lead to the men’s dormitories.  
“Godric said that he was going to have the stairs to the women’s dormitories enchanted so that men cannot go up them. Rowena and Helga agree but I’m not entirely certain.” He said one evening as they finished connecting the towers above to the grand staircase. As it was, the first level of rooms would also be underwater, and the second would have lake water lapping at the bottoms of the waist high windows.  
Gwen considered what she would say before continuing cautiously, “While there may be some wisdom in my brother’s thinking, I’m not entirely certain that it is necessary,” Salazar waited for her to continue, “With muggles, perhaps it would be necessary. But witches learn how to hex just as well as wizards. The wizards must be reminded that this is a place of learning and that they must respect that. If you wish to give them freedom, you must be serious about making them respect boundaries and limitations. And you must make consequences for crossing those lines.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gwenog Gryffindor, younger sister of Godric Gryffindor, held her skirts up slightly as she made her way through the dungeons. She wore her oldest shoes, and a good thing too, as the dungeons grew more and more damp the deeper she went. At last she stopped in front of a patch of brick that looked newer than the rest.  
“Basil.” She said to the wall. The bricks shuddered and then moved apart, creating an open archway. Through the archway was a grand room decorated all in emerald, black and silver. In the middle of the room stood Salazar Slytherin, a tall rogue-ish looking wizard with dark hair and groomed beard. His wand was out and he was directing silver orbs into the air and hanging them from the ceiling in groups of threes.  
Gwen came in and settled herself in one of the more ornate armchairs, spreading her skirts about her. When the last orbs dangled from the ceiling, he turned to her and presented his work, “Gwenog! How does it look?”  
“It looks fantastic. But there is something missing.”  
His face fell, “What?”  
Gwen smiled and rose from her seat, removing her purse from her hip. She lowered herself in the middle of the room, opening the purse and setting it down. She joined a confused looking Salazar and took out her wand.  
“Wingardium Leviosa.” Out of the bag rose a large crystal chandelier. It floated higher and higher. Gwen made sure it was center and attached it to the ceiling. The silver lights glistened off of the chandelier. She glanced over at Salazar, who seemed dazzled by such a generous gift, and flicker her wand again. One light from every cluster turned a soft green. It dimmed the room slightly, creating a cozy glow to the room. Gwen looked at her and Salazar’s month of work. It was beautiful. The wall underneath the stairs had been carved out into bookshelves, filled with magic theory, spells, potions, and all sorts of other useful information. The glow of the room made the lake on the other side of the windows that much clearer. She knew the squid was not there yet, but she imagined it would be magnificent to see.  
After a while, she became aware of the silence and turned to Salazar. Concern evident in her voice, she asked, “Is it alright? Do you like it? I can take it down if you don’t like it.” She could feel heat rising to her face. She was second guessing herself. Had she gone too far? Was it too much?  
“Gwen…” He looked away from the room and at her, “It’s absolutely perfect.” In a few steps, he closed the space between them, taking her face in his hands and pressing his lips against hers. Gwen was taken by surprise, forgetting to kiss back until seconds later.  
Encouraged by her return, Salazar pressed harder against her, his tongue teasing at her lips. One hand slid down to her neck, cradling her head to him; his other hand travelled down her body to the small of her back, pressing her body against his. Gwen felt the familiar tightening in her stomach that she had felt the first day she met him. A moan escaped her lips, startling Salazar. He released his hold on her, backing away. His face was red, much as Gwen suspected her face was.  
“My apologies. I-I don’t know what came over me. Please excuse me, Lady Gwenog.”  
“Salazar-” but he was already out of the archway and disappearing into the dungeons. 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having been ignored by Salazar, Gwenog seeks her revenge on him.  
> Will they give into their desire for one another?

**Chapter Three**

Within the next week, each of the four had finished construction and enchantment of what would be the common rooms and dormitories for their future students. Gwen did not see Salazar again. He had changed the password to his Common Room.  
To keep herself occupied, Gwenog dedicated herself to her own learning. While she had been on good terms with Helga during the first few months of her arrival, she now found herself spending an immeasurable amount of time with her. She was kind and sweet, always willing to show Gwen how something was done. Helga’s specialty was kitchen and homemaking magics, though her mastery of potions was nearly as perfect. Gwenog found herself studying those charms as well. As all charms had before, these came easily to her. As Helga taught her how to cook - something she had never had to learn before with her position as a highborn lady - she taught Helga how to do muggle embroidery. On occasion Rowena would join them, adding her quick wit and rich laughter.  
Gwen rather enjoyed having women as friends without the pressure present in muggle society to compete for suitors, to find the best marriage. Without expectation, she found their friendship to be stronger than any she had had before. Still, there were times that she felt as a stranger looking in - when Rowena would allow her hand to linger against Helga’s arm, neck, back, for but a moment longer than proper, when Helga would turn pink watching Rowena firmly and carefully roll out the dough for her sweet buns. It was something Gwenog had seen before, when she lived with her parents.   
Muggle society had, of course, forbidden such things, or rather, their church had. There were a great many things muggle church had forbidden - gentle touches, caresses, kisses, passion, love, pleasure… Gwen shoved away the images of Salazar that came to mind at the thought of carnal pleasures. How could she think of him, yearn for him, when she had not seen him for even a moment since they kissed?  
Again, how could she not think of him? How warm his lips were, how his hands trailed a slow burn wherever they touched? How the trail of spit left on her lower lip tasted of peppermint and sweet wine? She wondered why he had run, why he hid from her even know. She knew he had enjoyed her, she could see it in his eyes, in the way they roamed her body, in the unmistakeable pressing of his desire through their many layered clothes. Her only comfort was knowing that tonight there would be no hiding. He could not avoid her, not when the celebration of their progress would be held in his own Common Room.  
Helga floated the last tray of pastries out of the oven and set them down on the counter. The three of them began to arrange things in the most appealing manner so as to draw the eye from one artistic morsel to the next. They took their time, intent on perfection. When everything was arranged to their liking - or rather, to Helga’s exacting taste - they bewitched the the trays and led them out of the kitchen. Luckily for them, the kitchen was on the ground floor and would not require going down a multitude of stairs before descending into the dungeons.  
Gwenog allowed herself to fall slightly behind the other women when she spotted Godric on the grand staircase.

\----------------------------------- Salazar -----------------------------------

He waited outside the archway anxiously. How would it be to see her again? Would she be cold to him? How could she not after what he had done?  
Salazar heard them before he saw them. First came a wave of floating trays and platters, all of which floated right past him and into the room. They arrange themselves as though they were rather inconvenienced. Behind the first round of trays were Rowena and Helga. Helga’s laugh was like a bell enchanting Rowena, whose brown skin barely betrayed a hint of pink.  
He welcomed them, though he doubt that they even noticed. Next came another, smaller, round of trays. They followed the example of the first round, though slightly further away as they were desserts. They were followed by the sound of laughter. One, a low and full throated laugh, one he knew well from the years he spent travelling and studying with Godric. The other was a bit higher, though still a lower and fuller laugh than most women would allow to be heard coming from them. The breath was knocked from his lungs by the uncensored joy on Gwenog’s face. Around him she had always been lady like, covering her laughter and attempting to be the proper lady she was raised to be. But here, seen only by her brother, she was free. She was more beautiful now than ever and Salazar had to violently thwart the desire to grab her here and now, to cover her mouth with his again...and again and again until he was drunk from the taste of her.  
He bit his lip, drawing blood, to stop himself. For what he doubted would be the last time this night, he was grateful for the looseness of trousers and the added cover of his doublet. He was glad to have the disguise of formality rather than his usual minimalism. At the same time, he cursed it. In formal gowns, Gwen was gorgeous, even more so than usual. With her usually plaited hair piled in delicate curls atop her head, his eyes were drawn to the soft curve of her neck. The square neckline of her dress drew his eyes further, down just a touch more than would normally be considered proper, just hinting to her considerable cleavage.  
She was torturing him. that was the only reasonable explanation that he could see. There was no way that she, this golden beacon of untouched perfection, was entertaining any interest in him. Not when he was always so rude, improper, ungentlemanly. No, she desired better. She deserved better.  
He barely heard Godric’s greeting, “Salazar, good to see you. You’ve been so scarce recently. I must say it’s created quite the anticipation. After all, what else but beauty could keep you from our company?”  
Salazar nodded, gazing after them as they entered the room. Gwen glanced back over her shoulder, her forest green eyes locking on his. The world seemed to move in slow motion as she batted her thick lashes and bit the edge of her lip. Her tongue followed her teeth slowly, teasingly. God save him, this night would be an eternity.

\----------------------------------- Gwenog -----------------------------------

That evening seemed to drag on forever. While she enjoyed it greatly, the food, the friendship, the near constant laughter, she was all the more entertained by her slow torture of Salazar.  
Every so often she would catch his gaze lingering slightly too long and she would, careful not to be caught by the others, lick and bite her lip, run her fingers through her curls and down her neck, or across the curve of her breast, which became more prominent throughout the night. Whenever she did this, she had to stifle a giggle at Salazar’s quick readjustment. They were both glad when the night drew to a close.  
Gwen convinced Helga and Rowena to take the trays without her, which was not difficult. They seemed to desire only each other’s company at the time. Godric had drunk a bit more than was proper, but he had never truly cared about what was and was not proper. Hence his adventuring rather than settling down. His offer to escort her back to her chambers was easily dismissed; she informed him that someone had to help to tidy up after him. Salazar avoided her gaze as the others slipped away. At first she stayed true to her more pure intentions, carefully tidying the beautiful Common Room.  
As they neared their finish, she could not stop herself, “Have you been avoiding me intentionally?”  
Salazar paused, refusing to meet her eye, “I haven’t a clue what-”  
“Do not lie to me, Salazar.”  
“What I did was improper. It was indecent. It was-”  
“It was pleasurable. It was fun. At least for me,” she hesitated, “Was it not so for you?”  
“Of course it was very-” he had forgotten himself and turned to her, his face turning red. He stopped when he noticed the mischievous look on her face.  
“Is the Great Salazar Slytherin concerned with my virtue?”  
“You… you are my best friend’s sister-”  
She ignored him, continuing on her own path, “Because I can assure you, I have very little virtue left.”  
“I shouldn’t be corru- wot?”  
“Did you think me some pure little snowflake?” her fingers ran gently over the palms of his hands, drawing him nearer, enchanting him with a magic as old and primal as any mankind had ever known, “Did you not wonder what it was I was sent away for?”  
He stiffened as her lips grazed the base of his neck. She rose up slowly on her toes, her tongue trailing up his neck, “Have you forgotten the sigil of my house? I am a lioness. I am a fire. If I did not want you,” her lips pressed the most teasing of kisses to his lips. His body followed her, his own will abandoned, “Do you honestly believe you could have touched me without being burned?”  
“Gwen…” her name was a moan on his lips, a soft plea. It filled her with yearning. She nipped gently at his lip.  
“Kiss me, Salazar.”  
And he did. He kissed her with all of the pent up desire and need from the past week. His lips were hard and demanding against hers. His tongue was demanding, claiming her mouth, her neck, the curve of her breast.  
Together they abandoned propriety. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! haha! Ya'll thought I was gonna put the sex in this chapter! That's cute. Nah, the sex is in the next chapter. It will be nothing but sex. That way if it makes you uncomfortable, you can skip it. You're welcome.


	4. Chapter Four - Adult Content

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a sex scene.  
> It contains sex.  
> If you don't want to read a sex scene, then kindly move to the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to take this moment to remind everyone that I am, in fact, on the asexual spectrum. I haven't had sex in four years. So my writing a sex scene was a little bit difficult. They will no doubt improve as I get back into writing them and start to remember what sex was actually like a little bit better. 
> 
> The sex in this scene is pretty tame - up against the wall sex. Later in the series there will be more and more rough sex because that's what Gwen likes and Salazar is trying to find what she likes while exploring what kind of sex he likes. Neither of them are having their first time, but the medieval times weren't a really sexually adventurous time period.

**Chapter Four - Adult Content**

_“Did you think me some pure little snowflake?” her fingers ran gently over the palms of his hands, drawing him nearer, enchanting him with a magic as old and primal as any mankind had ever known, “Did you not wonder what it was I was sent away for?” He stiffened as her lips grazed the base of his neck. She rose up slowly on her toes, her tongue trailing up his neck, “Have you forgotten the sigil of my house? I am a lioness. I am a fire. If I did not want you,” her lips pressed the most teasing of kisses to his lips. His body followed her, his own will abandoned, “Do you honestly believe you could have touched me without being burned?” “Gwen…” her name was a moan on his lips, a soft plea. It filled her with yearning. She nipped gently at his lip. “Kiss me, Salazar.” And he did. He kissed her with all of the pent up desire and need from the past week. His lips were hard and demanding against hers. His tongue was demanding, claiming her mouth, her neck, the curve of her breast. Together they abandoned propriety._

Salazar cursed his hands for not moving fast enough. The fumbling of his fingers with the laces at the back of her gown frustrated him. It felt like it was taking an eternity and he wanted her bare now. He gave up on the strings, returning his mouth to hers. Gwen could practically taste his frustration and need - his kiss even more demanding than before. She moaned, being pressed against his body as his hands gripped her ass and lifted her up.  
She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing against his cock through their clothes. She reached between them, struggling to undo his sword belt. Her mouth moved along his jaw as his sword clattered to the floor. Too soon he was setting her back down. Before she knew what was going on, he had turned her and pressed her hands to the cold glass of the windows. One hand kept her hips hard against his, grinding slowly, adding to the slow burning fire; the other hand tore at the lacing of her dress. At last he was able to slip the gown off of her, letting it pool on the floor.  
Salazar groaned, eagerly tracing her exposed skin. She had spent the evening completely bare underneath her gown. His hands made their way down to her thighs, spreading and caressing them. He kissed her neck, biting down lightly as his fingers found her wet snatch.  
“Sa-salaza-” he had thrust two fingers into her eager pussy, causing her to gasp. Her moans filled the room as she began to grind against his fingers.  
Gwen reached between them, undoing the laces to his breeches as quickly as possible.  
“Please… Oh God, Salazar please…”  
“Did you want something?” He asked. She could feel him smirking against the curve of her neck.  
“I can’t wait… please Salazar…”  
“Say it.” she almost had his cock free.  
“Fuck me.”  
Salazar pulled his fingers from her and shifted his breeches down just enough so as to release his throbbing cock. Gwen’s fingers clutched at his doublet in anticipation as he placed the head of his cock at her entrance, slowly pressing against her, slowly entering her. She wriggled her hips, desperate for more than just the head of his dick. Making sure that he had her supported, her kissed her again, tenderly this time, as he sunk every inch into her.  
Salazar pressed into her harder, grinding his hips slowly, teasingly, filling Gwenog with the most lewd sensations. The heat radiating between the two of them and the hard contrast of the cold glass window pressing against her back escalated the sensation, driving her need to be taken, truly taken, though Salazar seemed intent on her slow torture.  
It was true the Gwen had had many lovers, both magical and muggle, men and women, but she had never been fucked like this. None of her previous lovers had run their hands over her curves as though she was the most precious thing they had ever touched only to grip her by roughly by her ass and pull her down to met their powerful thrust. None had ever held themselves deep inside her, thrusting slowly and deeply, grinding against her as they filled her to the hilt. Before she knew it, she felt as though she was on fire. It spread through her, so pleasurable it was almost painful.  
She was so close to her release. So close. So close to being driven mad. Her hands clutched at his clothes, trying to pull him closer, clutched at his hair as she kissed him, demanding more in the only way she could - as she had lost her voice long ago. Finally she grasped at his hand, moving it over her cunt and guiding his fingers to her clitoris. Salazar smiled as he pulled away from her lips, placing his forehead against hers. He watched her face as he slowly began to stroke it in time with his thrusts.  
He himself was getting closer to his climax. As his thrusts became harder to control, the more rough his fingers became. Soon she was moaning over and over, “yes, yes, yesss” like a mantra driving him on. Finally her eyes rolled back and she arched against him. Her breasts pressed up against him. The arch of her back forced her further down his cock and the tight pulse of her orgasm rocked through her. The clench of her pussy triggered something carnal inside Salazar. With an almost animal groan he pulled his hips back and snapped them forward again, thrusting into her hard, fucking her back up against the window. Whatever space had been left between them was gone as his body completely covered hers. Her moans grew louder, ringing in his ear. The room took the lewd sounds of their rutting and echoed them back. It was almost too sinful.  
With a final thrust he pulled out, his cum splattering between them, coating her belly and no doubt staining his favorite doublet.  
For a moment there was only a sound of their heavy breathing, each trying to catch their breath and neither in a hurry to move or speak at all. When they at last met each other’s eyes, Gwen began to laugh at Salazar’s sheepish expression. A warmth like happiness spread in him. It wasn’t the censored, watered down laugh she normally had in front of him. And while it was not the carefree laugh she gave her brother, it felt even more secret, even more precious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwen of course knows what a clitoris is. She has tried everything she can think of. She is the adventurous touch everything kind of girl.  
> Salazar I wasn't so sure about at first but he's got a surprise or two in him.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter jumps around a little bit. I wanted to look more at the bits and pieces of the school founding.
> 
> The next chapter is going to be the parts that happened in between each of these events and it will be adult content, mostly.

**Chapter Five**

“Were you really sent away for having sex?” the room echoed with the easiest laughter the two had shared as of yet. Salazar and Gwenog lay in his bed, him laying normally, her laying sideways, one bare leg hitched over his chest, the other resting atop it. Gwen had pulled the thinner blanket up to cover her waist, more for the comfort of cover than for decency.   
Gwen sighed happily, enjoying the feel of Salazar’s fingers tracing up and down her legs, “Really! Can you believe that? Muggles. They’re so… backwards in some ways.” She sighed again, though this one was a fair bit less happy than the last, “Mother and father, while attempting to be understanding, felt that the muggles were getting too suspicious, looking too closely at us. Better safe than burned. Shame too, that last muggle was quite the-”  
“You slept with muggles?”  
“Of course. I lived surrounded by muggles. A couple muggles here or there… two or three… or five if you count the women.”  
“Women? My, my, you are a woman of many surprises.”  
Gwen smirked and lifted herself up on her elbows to look at him, “Quite a few indeed. Maybe I’ll show you why the church began to call me The Temptress.”  
In a flash Salazar was kneeling above her, her legs pushed to the side of his body, his hands on either side of her. She did not back down. She didn’t even flinch as he came to rest his forehead against her’s. He slowly pressed his lips to her, deepening their kiss. As he pulled away, his teeth caught her bottom lip, pulling teasingly.   
“Please do.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“Gwen! Gwen!” Godric’s voice echoed down the stairs as he sped up his descent. Gwen herself had just been heading to the Great Hall. They, Gwen and Rowena, had spent the day cleaning it and Gwen had only just finished changing out of her soiled dress. She turned and waited for her brother to reach her before greeting him.  
“Godric, you act as though you haven’t seen me in ages.”  
“Well,” He began, pausing to catch his breath, “I haven’t seen you in nearly a week. I thought I would have seen you sunday at the least-”  
“You know I refuse to even entertain muggle religion. The only reason I did back home-”  
“And then I didn’t see you after that and I understand it is a large castle but there’s only so many of us.”  
“Yes brother, I understand. I’ve been back and forth between my chambers and the library. Which needs to be cleaned and expanded and stocked and maintained if you ever wish to actually educate students.” It wasn’t much of a stretch. She did spend plenty of time in the library. However, she it was not _her_ chambers she spent so much of her time in. She couldn’t very well tell Godric that he hadn’t seen her because she had been too busy fucking his best friend.  
“Not everyone can read, Gwen. Some of our students will no doubt be peasants.”  
“Then do you not think it is your duty as an educator to teach them how to read?”  
“I mean to teach them magic,” Godric had puffed up, seemingly offended at the suggestion, “I am not a nanny nor am I a children’s tutor.”  
“Then you are no true educator. You are a just a boy playing at one and if you continue in such a way you are doing a great disservice to your students. Nevertheless, someone must take responsibility and if it won’t be you I suppose that I shall have to do it.” Gwen left her stunned brother standing on the stairs and continued her way. She was usually far more patient with him but sometimes it was rather difficult to do so - today seemed as one of those days.  
Soon after, quick enough that an outsider would hardly notice the pause between them, he was catching up with her, “Well someone is short tempered. And there’s something else as well. You’re dress…”  
Her hands went to her dress, double checking the front laces and that everything lay straight. True, Salazar had not had her since the night before, but she constantly felt that her dresses were askew and someone would take note, “What’s wrong with it?”  
“Oh, nothing! It’s just… it is very different for you. Normally you are all bright colors and tight laces and… I suppose I am simply used to you dressing more as a noble lady.”  
“What’s the use dressing as a noble lady? There is no company to impress. We are all friends here. Besides,” Gwen opened the door to the Great Hall. When she had left, Helga and Salazar had just arrived with the long tables that would be set for the students. Now, the other three sat at the fifth table at the end of the room, which was raised slightly above the others, “Why should I dress in finery when I spend much of my time cleaning? I’ve ruined a number of skirts already. I refuse to lose any more.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”  
“Come on, why not?”  
“Because someone is going to get hurt. Students are going to get lost. Someone is going to get stuck on some landing and won’t be able to get anywhere. Someone could die, Godric. It’s foolish,” Gwen stopped to take a breath before continuing, stopping the argument on Godric’s lips, “What’s more, your students are children, _children, > Godric, can you please at least _pretend__ to be a responsible adult?”  
Salazar hid a laugh, turning the page in the book he was pretending to read while the siblings argued. Rowena closed her book and set it down on the table beside them, “I actually quite like the idea.”  
Gwen groaned and sunk dramatically onto the rather plush blue lounge. It was her favorite piece of furniture to grace the Ravenclaw tower, “Not you, too. You’re supposed to be the intelligent one. Godric is supposed to be the rash one incapable of adult thought. Poor mom and dad, there had to be one of course.”  
“See, Rowena agrees.”  
“It would be good for them. They would be forced into learning the pattern of the  
staircases and the layout of the castle. If they cannot do such a simple thing then they are not prepared to study magic. Further,” she continued to ignore the exasperated look she was receiving from Gwenog and the quiet chuckling coming from Salazar and how Helga would not stop straightening and re-straightening the knick knacks lining the closest bookshelf, “It would deter muggles. That way if one of them gets into the castle, they don’t stand much of a chance getting out.”  
Gwen could hardly argue after that. She could tell she was getting no where. The risk of being sold out by muggles was too great a deterrent; they couldn’t be risking not only their lives, but the lives of students, no matter how few. It would later be called the burning times; if Gwen could have been asked, she would have said it was more for the burn of fear than it was for the punishment, seeing as most of those dying were muggles in the wrong place at the wrong time.  
They started the enchantments on the stairs the next morning.

__

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“There is a discussion we need to have.” Rowena noted, not looking up from the embroidery hoop she was working on. The lines were uneven, like a child’s, but she was patient and determined. Helga had long since moved on to bewitched stitches, her patience for people and baking not applying to muggle embroidery. But Rowena insisted that it was the work that made the learning, and the end product, worthwhile.  
Gwen set aside her own stitching and got up to pour more tea. Salazar and Godric had paused in their chess game - ever as competitive as always - to pay attention.  
“Hegla and I were speaking earlier and it occurred to us that we may have varying opinions in regards to the allowance of muggle born and half-blood students.”  
Godric laughed, “Is that all? That’s a simple thing indeed.”  
“Indeed,” Salazar agreed, taking a sip of the tea, “We should not even question as to whether or not muggle born wizards should be allowed in. The answer is no. Half bloods are bit more-”  
“Why would we not teach muggle borns?” Godric interrupted.  
“Have you not been paying attention, Godric? They are trying to literally burn us alive. And that’s when they don’t have any legitimate proof. Imagine what they would do should they get their hands on actually witches and wizards…”  
“So you suggest that we abandon those children to their fates?” Helga asked. Her voice was low, quiet but with more steel than Gwen had ever thought she would hear from her.  
“I am suggesting that it is an unfortunate necessity in order to protect the other children. That is why I believe that we should try to to stick to those who can trace their lineage through wizarding families. That is why I am willing to make some form of exception for half-blood families. After all, one cannot always help in the matters of love or marriage,” Salazar’s eyes flickered to Gwen and back to his tea, trying not to be noticed, “Perhaps an exception can even be made for muggle born orphans. If they have no attachment to the muggle world then they are less likely to turn on the wizarding world. But muggles who have spent their whole lives surrounded by close minded bigots who would rather see us dead…” Salazar trailed off into silence. His face set seriously and sadness filling his eyes.  
Gwen stopped fiddling with the ends of her laces, “I think what Salazar is trying to say is that it is difficult to choose strangers over your family, no matter how similar you are to them, no matter how good or bad your family is, they are still your family. It is wise for us to be cautious.”  
Gwen shooed away Godric’s waiting objection, “Cautious, but not discriminatory. The children should be allowed to come. How we contact them must be handled delicately. Familial loyalty will have to work on our sides. After all, what parent would lead to the death of their child?” 


	6. Chapter Six - Adult Content

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one takes pace in between the parts of the last chapter.

**Chapter Six - Adult Content**

Gwenog shut the door to her chambers in the staff wing, smoothing her skirts down. She didn’t notice the statue in the shadowed corner jostling to the side, nor the dark hard man that emerged from the hidden tunnel.  
He smirked, realizing he held the element of surprise, and drew closer. He seemed to have a moment’s hesitation. He ran his fingers through his hair. Sure of his roguish good looks, he gripped her by her hips - on the corset just above her skirts - and pulled her against him. His warm chuckled the empty hall. It echoed alongside the low shriek Gwenog let loose.  
“Salazar!”  
“Yes, my love?” the scruff of his beard scratched against her neck as he kissed his way down to the curving join of neck to shoulder. Her response was put off in place of a moan, loud and the least ladylike sound to grace his ears. She leaned into him as he sucked and nibbled at that spot on her neck, soothing it afterwards with the hard press of his tongue.  
“You frightened me.” she did not sound even the least bit upset.  
“You love it when I frighten you, don’t you?” With one hand he tilted her head back by her chin and pressed his lips to hers, claiming her with a slow certainty that spoke of years of commitment, of more than the month since they had begun whatever this was.They savored the taste of each other, his sweet peppermint, free of the sweet wine he drank in the late evenings, her blackberry at the peak and something else, something that Salazar called the taste of her moans. It was indescribable, it was pure sex. It was carnal.  
His other hand tugged at the laces of her corset. He had gotten rather good at unlacing her blindly, as he did it two - sometimes four or five - times a day. But now his fingers faltered. He glanced down and cursed when he saw the double knot. The sound he made was animalistic, a growl deep in his throat. It sent a shock through her body. Her back met wall and her legs wrapped around his waist.  
“Wait-”  
“You like doing this, don’t you? Frustrating me? Making me need you like this?”  
“Salazar…” He stopped, controlling himself the best he could, restraining his need.  
“Yes, love?”  
“Not here. Someone could see.”  
“No one comes this far,” He reasoned, setting his forehead against her’s, “but tell me to stop and I will.”  
There was no hesitation, “Take me,” no consideration for the risk. If anything, the risk was even more arousing. With her consent, he unlaced his breeches and lifted her skirts, thrusting into her partway. He pulled out, leaving the tip at her entrance, teasingly dipping into her again and again. Her moans built louder. The only sounds in their world were the rustle of fabric and the impatient moans. Too soon it was too much for him and he thrust forward, burying his whole length inside her, ripping a moan from her throat. Her back arched, pressing her chest to his. Her neck exposed.  
Salazar began to kiss and suck the base of her neck again, leaving tiny marks peppered down her exposed shoulder. Some even dared to dip down to the curve of her breast - which was, as usual, more exposed than was entirely proper. Whether it was the sheer carnality of their coupling, or the adrenaline from the possibility of being caught, or whether Salazar had simply lost his own mind, something took hold of him. He snaked his fingers into her hair and tugged back, keeping her arched and pressed tight against his body. His thrusts became deeper, more powerful as they slowed to a steady rhythm.  
His hips snapped against hers, again, and again, each met with another sweet moan, “You like it like this, don’t you? My sweet little Gwen, a filthy harlot. You like this don’t you?” she moaned again, clutching at his tunic, “You like being _fucked._ You like being _claimed._ Don’t you?”  
“Ohgodyes. Yes. Ye-”  
“That’s right, moan. Fucking out in the hallway like animals. We could be caught any moment. The idea makes you wet doesn’t it? Don’t try to deny it, I can feel it. It makes me hard. It makes me want to fuck you harder.”  
“Please… OhgodpleaseSalazar. I want… I need…” But she couldn’t say what she needed. Every time she tried the words were stolen by moans, by the fire burning its way through her body.  
“What? What do you need?” He smirked, his hand leaving her hair and gripping her neck lightly, just enough that she had to look at him, “Do you need to cum? Is that it?”  
Her moan was enough for him. A voice inside suggested that next time he make her beg. But that was next time and now he himself could not hold out long enough to make her beg. His hand reach down, trying to find its way through her skirts.  
Gwen melted against him as his fingers found her clit and began rubbing in time with his thrusts - at least, as much in time as he could. He pressed closer, trying to keep her pinned to the wall. Her body tensed and quaked as she came undone. Another loud moan tore through her, catching briefly. The clenching and pulsing of her pussy was too much. Salazar pulled out, his cum splattering against the folds on her skirts.

“You know, peasant dresses would be such much easier. To get off or… not get off of you.” The excitement of doing this, whatever this is, in the future was enough to drown out the nagging feeling that one of these days they would be caught. Knowing Salazar’s luck, it would be Godric that would catch them.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I know you’re standing there, Salazar,” She said, not looking away from the staircase she was enchanting, “Shouldn’t you be working on this madness as well?”  
Salazar stayed leaning against the wall, “I’m terrible at charms.”  
“You did well enough in the dungeons.”  
“Because I had you helping me.”  
“Don’t be silly,” Gwen slide her wand into the pocket she kept in her skirts, “You’re just trying to distract me. But it won’t work. I am undistractable.”  
“Oh really?” It was now that he moved towards her. He ran his hands over the soft corset, something closer to a peasant’s clothes than the firm restriction of noble corsets, “I could think of a number of things that could adequately distract you.” He pulled her gently against him, pressing every inch he could together, and she felt his lips press against the skin just behind her right ear.  
“Hm? What would that be?”  
When he spoke again, his voice was soft and teasing, “Do you remember last night? Kissing down your neck, your chest, caressing you.”  
Gwen moaned softly remembering how he had teased her late into the night, how his fingers entered her again and again, his thumb teasing against her clit. Her knees grew weak remembering how he had pulled orgasm after orgasm from her body and when she thought she couldn’t take any more, how he had pressed his mouth against her dripping pussy.  
“Remember how you came undone? How your whole body shook beneath me? I’m fairly certain that would distract you.”  
“You’re going to get us caught, Salazar.” nevertheless, she did not resist as he backed her up against the wall and began lifting her skirt.  
He looked up at her from down on his knees, “Only if you can’t keep quiet.”  
Salazar lifted one of her legs up onto his shoulder and the top of his head disappeared beneath her hitched up skirt. Gwen pressed back against the wall, trying to leverage herself to press against his mouth. She wanted the eager tongue from the other night. She needed the urgency. But somehow he was maintaining more composure than she thought possible. He was calm and patient and driving her crazy.  
Normally it was a raging fire, full and blinding and terrifying. But today the slow movement of his tongue and lips built her slowly. By the time his fingers entered her, it was the most painful pleasure she had ever experienced. Her eyes rolled back and she arched against him. She was only vaguely aware of the loud moan ripping through her or the grip she had on Salazar’s hair.  
Salazar held tight to her as she quaked above him. When he finally set her down, he began to wipe his face on his sleeve, attempting to free his face of her cum. He had never seen someone… the best he could describe it was a type of squirting. Gwen swayed a little on her feet and Salazar was there to catch her.  
“I think, maybe,” he said, steadying her in his arms, “I should get you back to your chambers.” 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen and Salazar having their first big fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm running low on inspirations. I stepped away from this story to write The Champion, hoping that when I came back I would have more inspiration. But I don't. So this is a short chapter. If you want, leave a comment. Comments usually help me figure out what I'm doing and where I'm going with the story next.

**Chapter Seven**

“I don’t trust them.” Salazar raged. Though Gwen was certain that he wasn’t actually angry. He didn’t sound angry to her, and she knew the sound of angry and this was not it. He sounded more scared than anything. Scared and sad and lost.  
Gwen reached out for him, trying to comfort him.  
“And you, you want to let them in!”  
“Salazar…”  
“Why? Why do you want to let them in? What good does that do?”  
“Salazar,” Gwen finally got a hold of him, cradling his cheek in one hand, “Listen to me. Salazar. It is not about them vs. us. I’m not saying to let muggles know where we are. I am saying that we cannot afford to lose more of our own people,” Salazar moved to say something, “And that is exactly what they are, Salazar, do not attempt to deny it. They are children, small and precious and in so much danger if we do nothing for them.”  
“They will turn on us. Maybe not them, but their parents.”  
“Salazar, when do you start showing signs of magic?”  
“I-I was six, why should that-”  
“I was four. Godric was seven, and he was a late bloomer. We start teaching children at eleven. Eleven. By then, the parents have kept quiet for anywhere between three and seven years. That is commitment. That is love. That is what we will be counting on. And I was not suggesting telling them where we are doing this, simply that we can help their child learn and grow and be safe.”  
Salazar looked more defeated as they went on, “It isn’t safe for us.”  
“They are us, Salazar. Why won’t you see that? We will lose enough children when they start to show signs. We lose enough already. Do not ask me to let more slide through for some petty anger and fear towards this… this ridiculous war. I can’t do it, Salazar, I can’t let more children die.”   
The quiet stretched out between them. It made the few feet separating them feel like miles, worlds, pushing them further apart. Neither of them wanted to speak, to afraid of the fragile state, too afraid to hurt the other, too afraid in general of the ideas they were speaking of. Sure, not many witches died in the burnings. Not many could be caught. And the spell to get out of it was so simple that dying that way was foolish. But it was still a very real. There was more than one way to skin a cat. If she had to personally go door to door she would. If that was necessary to keep the children safe, to get them the education that they deserved, then so be it. Salazar was fighting a battle within himself, needing to be there for her, to comfort her, and being too angry, too afraid, needing to be alone, to hide. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing, goosebumps rising. He hadn’t felt like this, like a thousand pairs of eyes watching him, since he was sixteen. Since he left home.  
“You should go.”   
She didn’t argue with him. Or reason with him. She lifted her head, she hid back behind the veil of a highborn lady, and left with only the swish of her skirts filling the silence.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ay!   
> So this chapter happens after a who knows how long time skip!
> 
> Just to figure some timing out - Gwen came to the castle in early summer. She and Slytherin started sleeping together mid to late summer. They got in a fight in maybe.... November? This chapter takes place in early to mid summer.... So she's been there for a year now.

** Chapter Eight **

Gwen sat in a window seat high in Gryffindor tower. The sun cast its brilliant rays across the room, turning her hair to liquid fire that flowed down her neck and shoulder, twisting over her shoulder. She was the picture of feminine indifference, a rejection of the rules of how a lady should look and behave. Gone were the silken gowns, the folds of skirts, the corsets and laces. Instead, she was dressed in simple trousers. Over that she wore a tunic like top gifted to her for her birthday by Rowena. While Ravenclaw had never lived in her ancestral home of India, her extended family still lived there. It had become of of Gwen’s favorite garments.   
Rolls of fabric lay across her bared feet, rising and shaping to her whim as she waved her wand lazily. It had been months since she had been alone with Salazar. Every now and then he tried to pull her aside but she wasn’t ready to speak to him yet. Some differences just couldn’t be settled. Pieces cut, she summoned her needle. She set her wand down and began to set the stitches. Soon she had a brown pointed hat. Gwen picked her wand back up and vanished the extra fabric and the rest of her sewing supplies.   
Gwen looked out of the window at the large expanse of lawn below. She could barely make up the bright colored dress that she could only assume to be Helga. Beside her stretched out a barely visible blue spot. She smiled and popped the hat on her head, bounding out of the bench and down to the couple.   
“Ah Gwen! Come join us!” Helga called gleefully when Gwen came into view. Helga had her skirts spread about her, with just enough gathered to pillow Rowena’s head on her lap. In the year that Gwen had been here they had become much more open with their relationship. Now that she was closer, she could see that Rowena’s sari was blue and green, the color of the sea. Before them was laid a bright cloth and a great variation of foods.  
Rowena took the grape Helga offered between her lips before looking over at Gwen, “I see you found a hat to match your present.”  
Gwen laughed and sat cross legged across the picnic from them. She tossed the hat over to Rowena. Picking at the snacks she said, “This is what we were talking about the other day, a way to tell who should teach what student.”  
“Isn’t it easy though? I want the ones who are intelligent, Godric wants bravery, Slytherin wants purity. And the rest go to Helga, bless her heart.”  
“But what if the student is intelligent but they value their friends and family more than all the knowledge in the world? And how do you know someone is loyal out of love and selflessness rather than ambition? Or that their bravery only appears that way because they know what others do not? People are far more complex than just intelligent or brave or Pure blooded. It’s not so much the what as the why. And that’s even more complex and important with children.”  
Helga smiled over the rim of her goblet before taking a good long sip. Rowena watched the tilt of Helga’s neck, the blush that rose to her cheeks from being watched, “So how does it work then? Does it change to some other dull color for each of us?”  
“Haha, genius. Why did I not think of that? You’re wit is endless. No, Rowena, you unimaginative Sappho. It does not change colors. Right now it’s just a hat. I was going to enchant it to speak. It would look inside and then just tell them where they belong. Simplicity, no interpretation possible.” She took the hat back from Rowena, setting it gently on the grass next to her.   
“What if it makes a mistake?” Helga asked, feeding a date to Rowena this time.  
“Between the five of us, it won’t. We’ll talk to it, teach it what to look for, how to look into the deepest parts of their minds. Do you think Godric and Slytherin will go for it?”  
“You could ask them. They’re headed this way now.” Shortly after Rowena said that, the two could be heard laughing as they made their way towards the group.   
“Ladies,” Godric said, sitting on on the side of the cloth by Rowena’s feet, leaving Salazar to sit next to Gwen. If the others notice the two of them tense up, they didn’t say.

As the food ran out and the others realized they had things to do, Salazar and Gwen were left alone on the grass.   
“Gwen-”  
“Don’t.”  
“But-”  
“No. It’s too beautiful out to fight with you right now.”  
“I don’t want to fight with you.”  
“Then don’t speak.”  
Salazar fell silent. He watched as she leaned back, eyes closed, smiling as she soaked in the sun. The only sound was the rustling of the leaves in the breeze. Lying down on the grass, she fanned her hair out, much as she usually spread out her skirts. His eyes followed her hands, the one that settled gently on her stomach, then the one that absentmindedly played in her hair. For a moment he allowed himself to imagine that she wasn’t angry with him, that they were simply happy and content together. He imagined it was his fingers in his hair. For an impossible moment he imagined… but no. He couldn’t allow himself to imagine that, any of it. That image was worth a thousand arguments. If they were careful, perhaps he could afford to lose this one.   
“I’m scared.”  
Gwen said nothing, but she didn’t stop him this time. He took that as a positive.  
“I’ve been scared for a long time. It doesn’t excuse anything.”  
She tilted her head, watching him.  
“You were right. They are just children. They’re scared children. The same as I was, the same as my siblings were, the same way all of us are. I can accept them being here, I guess, but I can’t control the fact that I’m scared. I can’t change that.”  
“You’re an asshole.” he was just so happy that she was actually talking to him.  
“I know.”  
“And selfish.” She had sat up to tell him this.  
“I know.”  
“And irrational.” she moved closer.  
“I can be, yes, I know.”  
“I missed you.” she was just out of reach.  
“I kn- what?”  
“I missed you.”  
“You did?”  
“Of course. But I didn’t think that there was any way I could change your mind.”  
“You’re probably right.”  
“But if I talked to you…”  
“Then what?”  
“Then I would have forgiven you. and I was just so angry. And I can’t accept putting your comfort over someone’s life. Let alone the lives of dozens of children.”  
“I know. I was being stubborn and pig headed and I will try harder.”   
“Good.” He missed the feeling of her lips. He didn’t care that they were out in the open. He didn’t care that Godric could look out of his tower windows and see them. All he cared about was her warmth, the way his hands settled on her hips in such a familiar way, how she wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pressed herself against him. All he cared about was the sound of her laughter as they came apart. The sound was so sweet after the months of silence. He had been so foolish.


End file.
